Shame (Ruin #3)(67)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

“I think we just gave her the shock of her life,” I mused.

Lisa tugged me closer. “Well, at least now I can scream, since she’s probably telling everyone on this floor. Dr. Blake…”

I kissed her hard across the mouth. “Louder.”

I was ready for her again. Hell, I wasn’t sure I’d ever not be ready for her.

“You’re sexy…” She ran her fingers through my hair.

I had to keep myself from purring.

“…when you’re out of control.”

“You’re sexy,” I nipped her lower lip. “…when you think you have it.”

And then I gently moved within her again and winked.

EPILOGUE

Sometimes the most beautiful things are the ones that pose the most danger, just like the ugliest of the world turn into objects of absolute beauty. The cancer was ugly, but Kiersten turned it to beauty. The death of Gabe’s fiancée was horrendous, but Saylor made the death redeeming, precious. And Lisa… her past was ugly, but look at the beauty of the disaster that struck: Tristan, redemption within their family, and finally, love. I think the world has it wrong when it strives after the beautiful. It should fight for the ugly; it should hope for the damned; it should seek the lost — because in the end, if there weren’t tears, if there wasn’t fighting, then do you really deserve to feel satisfied and happy? —Wes Michels

Wes

“GABE!” SAYLOR YELLED. “I mean it! Drop the water gun.”

Gabe ran around the pool, aiming for her face like a toddler.

Naturally, it was in my best interest to stop him, considering all the girls were warring against him, but I was too relaxed to care.

I lay back… watched Kiersten, my wife, join forces with the other females, and laughed at all their expressions. I laughed out loud.

It felt good to laugh; it felt good that it was real. My friends made fun of me for always spouting out nonsense and wisdom, but how could I be any different after going through what I had?

Funny, because out of all the people in my life, the one person who understood the most was Lisa. The most unlikely of partners. She sat quietly next to me and whispered, “I like laughing again.”

“It gets easier,” I whispered. “The laughter.”

She smiled and turned to face me. “I know.”

She’d been through hell. The media hadn’t been kind once the story had broken about Taylor and her involvement. We’d tried to protect her as much as we could, but in the end, she’d been made out to be a bully, just like he had been.

Tristan had done his best to defend her; even his father had defended her. But once the storm died down, she’d approached the media with her story. She’d bravely broken her silence. She’d spoken so eloquently that day, explaining the dangers of emotional bullying, how it turned into physical abuse, how she’d been raped. She’d left no stone unturned, and with all our help, had started her own non-profit in honor of online bullying.

“Tristan,” Lisa warned as he made his way around the pool with a squirt gun. “Don’t! Don’t you dare!”

“Do it, do it!” Gabe chanted, while Kiersten and Saylor squirted him in the face with the water guns.

It probably didn’t help that it was a chilling fifty-five degrees outside, hardly pool weather. Then again, the water was heated, so it wasn’t a huge chore to swim.

“I love you.” Tristan nodded. “But it’s time… for revenge.” He squirted her leg. “That was for hiding the label maker.”

Lisa burst out laughing.

He squirted her stomach. “And that was for making labels that had words like breasts on them when labeling chicken.”

“In my defense, it was still accurate.” Lisa laughed harder.

“She’s right.”

“Stay out of this, Michels!” Tristan roared then lunged for Lisa and pulled her into the pool. Her laughter was more than I could have hoped for.

Laughter meant healing.

Healing was more than just being cured of cancer or finding the one who actually saw you for you. It was more than getting over your past, embracing your future. Healing’s waking up every day when you’d rather stay in bed; healing’s when you smile instead of cry; healing’s when you can hold your head high, despite what demons try to pull it down. And life was full of it, full of opportunities to cut and run, rather than stay put and face the storm.

They never teach you that in school. They never teach you that the fish that survive are the ones that swim against the current.

My name is Wes Michels, and I’m a survivor.

Now it’s your turn to live, laugh, and love.

Live… like Kiersten and I chose to do.

Laugh… at all the little things along with way, like Gabe and Saylor did.

Love… like Lisa and Tristan were finally able to do.

Yeah, I chuckled as I watched my friends continue to tease and yell at one another.

Just thank God.

And live.

The End